Wrongful Death
by anotherredhead
Summary: When Matt forbids Kitty's involvement in a trial where he finds himself in the unfamiliar role of defendant, she decides to go to Wichita instead after receiving surprising information about the contents of a will. They each embark on journeys they will never forget.
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own these characters except for everyone besides Matt, Kitty, Doc and Festus. Also, I'm not a doctor or a lawyer so a little leeway on those issues might be necessary.

**Wrongful Death**

Chapter 1

The Last Will and Testament of Silas Gardner

**Thursday, July 24**

Festus Haggen entered The Long Branch Saloon carrying a stack of mail in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. He stopped just inside the door and wiped away the trickle of sweat that had begun to fall from his forehead.

"Shore is a hot one, ain't it?" he remarked as he made his way to the bar and took a stool.

"You can say that again," Kitty replied, trying to create a breeze with the Harper's Magazine she had been perusing on this slow afternoon. It was July in Dodge City, and the oppressive heat wave was now in its third day.

"I brung yer mail," Festus announced proudly, handing her the stack of envelopes. Kitty had given the Post Office permission to let Festus pick up her mail, knowing how he enjoyed delivering it as if reading the address himself.

"Well thank you, Festus," she said with a smile. "I appreciate it."

"Oh, it wasn't no trouble 'tall," he assured her. "Seein' as I was already headin' over here anyways."

"Oh, you were?" she asked, fairly certain she knew why.

"It's hotter'n the devil's waitin' room, Miss Kitty. A feller needs to keep hisself from gettin' too dried out on a day like this. Now let me see here..." Festus began to rifle through his pockets, looking for the same coin that seemed to elude him every time he visited the establishment.

"Tell you what," Kitty offered, drawing some beer into a mug. "This one's on the house since you were thoughtful enough to get the mail for me."

"Well…if you insist. Much obliged," he nodded, grabbing the handle and sucking down a good third of the brew in a few continuous swallows.

Kitty chuckled as Festus accepted his usual reward. Pulling out a chair, she sat at the nearest table and put on her reading glasses. She shuffled through the stack, scanning the expected bills and other less than exciting mail. But the last envelope caught her eye. It had come from Wichita, as both the postmark and return address indicated, and it was handwritten. She didn't know anyone in Wichita, and the shaky writing was unfamiliar. Curious, she carefully tore it open and unfolded the crisp piece of paper.

_Dear Miss Russell,_

_I am writing on behalf of Silas Gardner, who I trust you remember from some time ago in Dodge. Mr. Gardner has been my neighbor and friend for nearly three years. I am sorry to say that he passed away a few days ago after a bout with pneumonia. _

_Mr. Gardner had no living relatives and gave considerable thought during his illness to who should inherit his estate. It was his final wish that his belongings be divided between the two people who showed him the most kindness during his life—his beloved housekeeper, Mrs. Frederickson, and Miss Kitty Russell of Dodge City._

_Mr. Gardner had fallen on hard times when he came to Dodge, and he never forgot your merciful assistance to him during that part of his life. He told me how you would bring him food when he was sleeping in the stable, and talked others into hiring him for odd jobs. You will be pleased to know that his fortunes changed considerably once he left Dodge, and he was able to live out the rest of his life with a sense of comfort and security. Among his assets are his home, which is modest but fully paid for, and some personal possessions which he wanted you to have._

_I am a retired lawyer, and Mr. Gardner asked me to record his last will and testament when he became ill. It is my sincerest hope that you are still at the address Mr. Gardner had for you and will be able to attend the reading of the will. I have scheduled this for Thursday, July 31, at 9am to accommodate Mrs. Frederickson, who is leaving town soon. It will be held at my home near Mr. Gardner's house, 950 Johnson Fork Road, Wichita, Kansas. I look forward to meeting the woman who had such a profoundly positive effect on my dear neighbor's life._

_Respectfully,_

_Charles Metheny_

Kitty slowly set the letter on the table in front of her. Silas Gardner—she hadn't heard that name in years. He was a nice man, and she had liked him as much as she pitied him. She had often wondered what happened to Silas once he left town, not expecting that it would be anything good. How old would he have been? At least 60 by now, she thought. The news that he had been able to experience a better life in Wichita before his unfortunate illness made her smile.

But leaving her half his estate? That was somewhat of a shock. She hadn't known him _that_ well, and she only remembered helping him out a few times. Was there something she was forgetting?

Kitty picked up the letter and read the last paragraph again. The timing actually couldn't be better—she had resigned herself to spending next Thursday alone, worrying about Matt while he was attending some very unpleasant business in Hays. Wichita was just a short train trip away, and she couldn't think of a reason not to go. She didn't care about the money and didn't feel entitled to any of his possessions, but in all honesty she was intrigued. And if the man thought enough of her to do this, shouldn't she at least give the gesture as much consideration as he had? After careful contemplation, Kitty decided it was only right to show Silas Gardner the same respect in death that she had in life. She was going to Wichita.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dinner for Three

The evening sunset brought only partial relief from the scorching heat of the day. Kitty changed out of her sweat-soaked yellow dress and sponged off before putting on a fresh emerald green one. Her date walked through the batwing doors of The Long Branch Saloon just as she was heading down the staircase.

"You look nice," Matt Dillon said with an affectionate smile. "Are you ready for dinner?"

"As long as it's something cold," she answered, fanning her face with her hand.

"That shouldn't be a problem at Delmonico's," he joked.

Kitty laughed. "I'll be back in a while, Sam," she called to her barkeep as they headed out the door.

They arrived at the restaurant to find a familiar face near the entrance. Doc Adams wiped a bead of sweat from his brow as he saw them approach.

"Hello, Doc," Kitty greeted their friend. "We were just about to get some dinner. Would you like to join us?"

Doc rubbed his moustache and thought about the offer. "Well this heat is killing my appetite, but I suppose I could eat a bite. Unless they're serving catfish stew again." The trio found a table inside and placed their orders before starting to chat.

"So what have you two been up to today?" Doc asked casually.

"Not a thing, Doc," Matt answered. "I think even the outlaws are taking a heat break."

"Well, my day turned out to be pretty interesting," Kitty announced.

Matt raised his eyebrows. "It did? How so?"

"Do you remember a man who used to live here named Silas Gardner?" she began.

"Sure I do," Matt replied. "You were always trying to get me to find jobs for him."

"That's right," Doc chimed in. "Short balding fellow. You talked me into letting him fix my buggy one time. As I recall, the wheel fell off shortly after."

"Oh, it wasn't as bad as all that," Kitty snickered. "But yes, that's him."

"He moved away some time ago," Matt recalled. "What does he have to do with your interesting day?"

"You're not going to believe this, but Silas Gardner recently died, and it seems he left me half of his estate."

"What estate?" Doc bellowed. "The man didn't have two nickels to rub together from what I remember."

"I know, Doc," she acknowledged. "But apparently his luck changed when he moved to Wichita, and he died with a house and some other belongings."

"Kitty, how do you know all this?" Matt wondered.

"I got a letter today from his lawyer," she explained. "Well, actually a friend who is a retired lawyer. Silas asked him to record the will, and he invited me to come for the reading."

"Where is this will being read?" Doc asked.

"At his house in Wichita," she answered.

"At his house? Who is this friend, Kitty? What's his name?" Matt pressed, feeling uneasy about the situation.

"He is Silas' neighbor and his name is Charles Metheny. You can read the letter if you like." Kitty was beginning to feel slightly annoyed at the general lack of enthusiasm for her news.

"I'm with Matt," Doc declared. "I don't know if I like the sound of this."

"Is it so hard to believe that Silas appreciated what I did for him and left me something in his will?" she asked.

"It's not that," Doc responded, realizing that their comments were sounding less than supportive. "But you haven't heard from him in years, Kitty. Where did this money come from? Didn't he have anyone else to leave it to? I mean, you were better to him than anyone and I'm sure he appreciated it. But you have to admit it does seem a little odd."

"And shouldn't a will be read at the courthouse?" Matt added.

"According to Mr. Metheny, he didn't have any living relatives," she informed him. "He left half of his estate to his housekeeper, and the other half to me. And maybe Mr. Metheny wants me to come there to see Silas' house since it's part of the estate. I don't know, Matt. But I'm going to find out, whether you like it or not."

"That's fine, but I'm going with you," he insisted.

"I wish you could," she said, softening her tone and sounding hesitant to continue. "But it's next Thursday."

Matt looked at Doc and grimaced. That was the day the trial was scheduled in Hays, and they both had to be there. It was a trip both men had been dreading.

"At least let me check up on this Charles Metheny and make sure he is who he says he is," Matt offered. "I have some contacts in Wichita."

"Alright, if it will make you feel better," Kitty agreed.

With that, they dropped the subject and ate their hot dinner.

Later that evening, Matt went through the letter with a fine-toothed comb. Despite his doubts, he had to admit that it seemed legitimate. But he had a friend who worked in the county clerk's office in Wichita, and there was no way he was letting Kitty go off to meet some stranger by herself until he was satisfied that it was safe.

The next morning he wired an old friend, Joe Murphy, requesting residence and criminal history information for one Charles Metheny. Wichita was a large city and he doubted that Joe actually knew the man, but there would be recent census records and a deed if he owned a house.

After doing a bit of research, Joe dutifully wired him back:

_Charles Metheny. Age 78. Address 950 Johnson Fork Road. Retired lawyer. Widower. No criminal history._

Well I'll be damned, he thought. It actually checked out. For better or worse, he had no reason to try and talk Kitty out of this trip. It might even be good for her, under the circumstances.

Matt headed down to The Long Branch to give Kitty the news that she was indeed co-heir to whatever Silas Gardner had managed to accumulate in the years since he had left town.

**GSGSGSGSGSGSGSGS**

**Tuesday, July 29**

Kitty barely managed to squeeze a nightgown into her already bulging suitcase. She would only be gone for two days and was determined to get by with one bag.

The heat wave had broken over the weekend, and by Tuesday it was a comfortable, breezy 77 degrees in Dodge City. Thank God, she thought—the trip to Wichita would be much more pleasant than she had anticipated when she made her train and hotel reservations.

It was somewhat ironic, really. She was packing a suitcase after all, but not for the trip she had wanted to take. Had Kitty gotten her way, she would be on that stage to Hays with Matt and Doc tomorrow and Charles Metheny would have received a letter of regret. But Matt had all but forbidden her to come with them. It was bad enough that Doc had to be there—he was not about to let Kitty get involved in this mess as well.

It wouldn't be the first time that Matt Dillon had to defend his actions on the job. He wasn't in the business of making friends and had been accused of wrongdoing more than once in his career, mostly out of spite. The truth had always prevailed and nothing had ever come of it. As long as the truth prevailed again, nothing would come of this either. But no matter what happened at the trial, Kitty knew that this time was different. This time was personal.

She snapped her suitcase shut and pulled it off the bed, taking a seat where it had been. Had it really been just two months since this whole nightmare began? The time had crawled at a snail's pace. She couldn't help but feel a few butterflies as she pictured the courtroom in Hays, Matt and Doc on the witness stand. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered the devastating series of events that had led up to this moment.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The Accused

**Monday, May 19**

Jed and Mavis Connelly had lived in Dodge their whole lives, and Matt and Kitty considered them good friends. The recently retired banker and his wife had been headed into town for a leisurely trip to the General Store when disaster struck. Jed had suffered a severe concussion and broken arm in the carriage accident, and he had been the lucky one. Mavis, his bride of nearly 45 years, had been thrown from the carriage and broke her neck, killing her instantly.

It was a day that would be forever burned into Matt's memory. Galloping at full speed, in close pursuit of three men who had just robbed the bank and shot a clerk, he rounded a corner near Boot Hill Summit to see the Connellys heading wildly toward him. Their horse was dangerously out of control, and Matt could see the outlaws racing away just up ahead. He turned Buck hard to the left, putting as much distance as possible between them, and Buck kept going without missing a beat. But he looked back in time to see their horse failing to round that same corner, sending them all careening down a steep hill.

His best guess was that the group of fleeing outlaws had narrowly missed running into them, sending their spooked horse in a tragic direction with no time to recover. Sometimes in his dreams, Matt would watch the carriage heading for the edge in slow motion, veering back on course at the last second as Mr. Connelly jerked the reins and regained control of his horse. But when he awoke, the image in his mind returned to the horror of the broken bodies of his friends and their horse littering the hillside. Kitty was one of few who knew how deeply this tragedy had affected Matt Dillon. The man who shared so little of his inner self with the outside world bared his soul to the woman he loved.

Jed had been physically unable to come to his wife's funeral, still in a semi-conscious state and unaware that Mavis had even died. It was decided that when Doc thought he could handle it, Jed's only son Jake would break the news to him.

It had been a heartbreaking scene, as expected. Jake did his best, but there was no good way to tell a man that the love of his life was gone. Doc assured Jake that Jed's initial reaction was normal under the circumstances. Time was the only true healer, and it was going to take plenty of that for Jed to work through his grief. Jake, who was a farmer in Russell, arranged to have one of his farm hands take over while he cared for his father. His teenaged boys would also help, and his wife agreed that her husband belonged in Dodge for now.

As days, then weeks passed, Jake noticed something troubling. The physical injuries had not changed his father's appearance, but Jed was almost unrecognizable to his son. The even tempered man with the warm smile had been replaced with a disagreeable man given to frequent angry outbursts and irrational accusations. His memory was also spotty, sometimes remembering events from years ago but forgetting whether he had eaten breakfast that morning. Jake had sought Doc's help, hoping to hear that Doc had seen this before and that it was likely a temporary situation brought on by severe stress. Doc wanted to tell him that, but he couldn't.

The average life expectancy was just over 44 years. Many people lived well beyond that, but in keeping with the average, many died younger too. Doc had seen more friends become widows and widowers than he cared to remember—through disease and childbirth, accidents and gunfights. He knew what grief looked like, and he had never seen a complete personality transformation like the one that had occurred in Jed Connelly. The accident had clearly taken more from him than his wife, and Doc was determined to figure out if there was a way to get it back.

Matt and Kitty had gone to see Jed many times since the accident, and it was sadly obvious that this was not the friend they had known and loved all these years. They struggled to handle their increasingly difficult visits with him, telling themselves that nothing they dealt with could possibly be as painful what Jed was going through. But that was about to change.

**GSGSGSGSGSGSGS**

Jake Connelly walked into Matt's office looking none too happy to be there. "Hello, Marshal," he said politely, removing his hat. "If you're not busy I was wondering if I could have a word with you."

"Certainly," Matt offered. "I hope this isn't bad news about your father."

"Probably not the kind of bad news you're thinking," Jake answered cryptically. "But it's a rather delicate matter, and Dr. Adams thought I should talk to you about it."

Matt had no idea what he was about to say, but it sounded important. "Alright, Jake. What is it?"

Jake sighed before he spoke. "Marshal, my father believes that you were the one responsible for the accident. He is convinced that you are the reason my mother is dead."

Matt looked at him in disbelief. "Why would he think that? Doc said Jed didn't even remember the accident. What happened?"

"Bits and pieces of that day are starting to come back to him," Jake explained. "He said he remembered seeing you riding toward them before they went down the hill. He remembers their horse being out of control. He says you ran them off the road."

"But I didn't," Matt insisted. "That horse was already out of control when I got there. It was all I could do to get out of the way. I didn't see it, but it had to be those outlaws I was chasing that did something to spook that horse."

"I believe you, Marshal," Jake assured him. "I'm not here to ask you to defend yourself. I just…well, Dr. Adams thought you should know that my father is very upset about this and is telling people that it was your fault. You know how he's been lately, he's not himself. I'm very sorry about this, it's upsetting for everyone."

"I know," Matt replied sympathetically. "I appreciate your telling me."

The two shook hands, and Jake left the office having completed his unpleasant task. Matt sat down and massaged his temples. Could this situation possibly get any worse?

He decided to pay Doc a visit and find out. Matt found him at his desk poring over a stack of papers. Doc looked up as he saw his visitor enter with a look of concern on his face.

"I suppose Jake has been to see you," Doc assumed.

"Yeah," Matt answered. "What do you think about all this?"

"Well, I think Jed is having some flashbacks to that day," Doc replied. "But the memories are all jumbled up. It's like a big puzzle, Matt. The pieces are all there, somewhere in his mind, and he's able to put together a few of them at a time. But there are still some big gaps, and he's trying to fill them in even though he hasn't retrieved all the pieces yet."

"But Jed knows me, Doc," Matt declared. "I told him what happened, and he knows I wouldn't lie to him about that."

"Your friend Jed Connelly knows that," Doc said. "But I'm afraid that's not who we're dealing with here. Not yet anyway."

"What's wrong with him, Doc?" Matt asked. "Is he going to get better?"

"I don't know," he responded candidly. He lifted the stack of papers on his desk. "I've been doing a lot of research on this, and I hope to have some answers soon. In the meantime, we just have to be as patient as we can and try not to upset him."

Matt nodded in resignation. "I know. Thanks Doc."

Matt left and Doc returned to the journal articles he had been studying. He was convinced that Jed's faulty recollection of the accident had something to do with the fact that Matt had been the last person he had seen before it happened. He didn't even remember leaving for The General Store that day, so something was clearly affecting his memory of specific time periods, including the events leading up to Matt passing him on Buck. But no one could convince an angry Jed that some phantom outlaws had been the ones who had caused this tragedy. He wasn't crazy—he knew what he had seen, and he began telling anyone who would listen.

Fortunately, most people didn't listen. It was a hard sell to anyone who knew Matt Dillon that he had lied about what had happened. He was just not the type of man who lied, about anything. Neither was the Jed Connelly that the town knew and loved. If only he was still with them.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Why Won't Snakes Bite Lawyers?

**Friday, June 20**

Matt rode out to the Connelly place for another visit, alone this time. His previous visits had been with Kitty, the outgoing presence with the soothing words who complimented his more reserved nature. But this was the first time he would see Jed since Jake's disturbing revelation, and he wasn't sure how it would go. Kitty knew about Jed's claims, and she had been quite upset about them. He wasn't going to subject her to what he anticipated might be a very awkward encounter.

He didn't regret the decision. It had been even worse than he envisioned, with Jed demanding that he admit to killing Mavis and Matt trying unsuccessfully to calm him down enough to have a rational conversation. Jed wasn't capable of that, and Matt didn't know how to handle it. At one point Jake had physically restrained his father to keep him from taking a swing. Matt left soon after, realizing that the visit was a mistake.

He relayed to Kitty a more sanitized version of events, letting her know it didn't go well but playing down the intensity of Jed's anger toward him. He didn't know she would experience it firsthand a couple of days later.

Kitty had been blindsided as she walked down Front Street that afternoon. She saw Jed approaching out of the corner of her eye, turning just in time to see his finger coming at her face.

"You tell that man of yours that he may have this town fooled, but he can't run away from what he did," he screeched.

"Jed, please," she begged. "Don't make a scene. Not here."

"I'll make a scene anywhere I damn well please," he shouted even louder. "And when you tell the Marshal about this in your room tonight, you might advise him to get a good lawyer."

Kitty felt like she had been slapped in the face. _When you tell the Marshal about this in your room tonight._ He had really said that, in public, for everyone to hear. She wanted to cry.

She knew not to take it personally, but it was hard. This was her friend, _their_ friend, who had always supported and abided by the unspoken rules of their relationship. The man who had jovially handled her deposits at the bank and made good natured comments about her business savvy was now yelling at her in the street.

She had gone to Doc for advice, not wanting to upset Matt. He had been through quite enough lately without her burdening him with that unsettling encounter.

"What should I do, Doc?" she asked her friend and father figure. "You know how Matt would feel about this. I don't want to worry him."

Doc agreed. "I don't see any reason to mention this," he decided. "There's nothing Matt could do about it anyway. Jed didn't break the law. And talking to him isn't going to help, any more than you could talk a man out of scarlet fever."

Doc was in uncharted territory for him, medically speaking, but after exhaustive research he had developed an unofficial diagnosis for Jed Connelly, which he discussed at length with Kitty. He had no idea how important that was about to become.

**GSGSGSGSGSGSGSGS**

**Wednesday, June 25**

A newly painted window next door to the bank advertised the office of one Prescott Wilkes, Esquire. A graduate of the prestigious St. Louis University School of Law, Wilkes had decided he would rather be a big fish in a small pond than the other way around. After a bit of research, he determined that Dodge City had enough law breaking to keep a dozen lawyers busy, and there were only two in town. It seemed like a lucrative place to open a first practice.

Prescott Wilkes was a walking punch line for every lawyer joke ever told. He cared about the law to the extent that it could bring him fame and fortune and had never met a law he couldn't devise a way to skirt around. His criterion for accepting a client consisted of a check that cleared.

It was with great interest that Prescott Wilkes learned of Jed Connelly's claim that Matt Dillon had caused a fatal accident. A retired banker surely had money, so he fit the client profile. As luck would have it, a new law had recently been created that allowed a deceased person's family to sue someone in civil court if they believed that person was responsible for the death, either maliciously or through recklessness. The legal term was "wrongful death," and Wilkes had been itching to test it out. The accused was a respected U.S. Marshal with an impeccable record, and the plaintiff had mental problems. It would be considered an unwinnable case, but if he did—and he had no doubt he could—it would put him on the map.

Jed's son had finally returned to Russell, unable to convince Jed to come back with him. He would have preferred to have his father near him, but he couldn't force him to come. He missed his wife and kids and decided that he couldn't stay in Dodge indefinitely. It was another stroke of luck for Prescott Wilkes, who was able to talk a confused man into handing him a check with the promise of obtaining justice for his dear departed wife.

The summons was delivered to Matt Dillon's office early in the morning, shortly after he had eaten breakfast. Not only was he being sued, but Wilkes had petitioned to have the trial moved to Hays since the defendant was too well-known and liked in Dodge for his client to get a jury that would vote against him. Matt had to read the summons three times before he could actually digest what he was reading.

He had chewed on the information all day before walking down to The Long Branch to tell Kitty. Doc and Festus were there having a beer, and he figured he might as well tell them all at once. He directed them to a table in the back and then passed the summons around, first to Kitty and then Doc, who read it out loud for Festus. Their stunned silence was deafening, until Doc decided to lighten the mood.

"Do you know why snakes won't bite lawyers? Professional courtesy."

Matt and Kitty couldn't help but chuckle, while Festus looked confused. "That don't make a lick o' sense, Doc," he declared.

"It most certainly does," Doc growled. "It means that the lawyer and the snake are in the same business, so the snake isn't going to bite one if its own."

"But how's a snake even gonna know that a feller is a lawyer in the first place?" Festus argued.

"For heaven's sake Festus, it's a joke. It's not meant…oh, never mind," Doc huffed, waving his hand dismissively. "Listen, Matt," he continued. "I don't know what this Wilkes thinks he's doing, but there isn't a chance in hell he's going to win this. Jed Connelly is confused about what happened that day, and I'm going to prove it in court."

Kitty, too, was mentally preparing her testimony, certain that the detailed account Matt had given her of the accident well before there was even a question of how it happened would be relevant.

But Matt had a different opinion. He pictured Kitty on the witness stand, her personal life under a microscope while some oily lawyer cross-examined her. _When did he tell you this story? Where were you at the time? Why did he tell you, of all people? Isn't it true that Marshal Dillon is your lover? Wouldn't you say anything to protect him?_

No, he decided, there was no way he could let her testify. "It's hearsay," he insisted. "You weren't there, it doesn't matter what I told you."

That might have been true. Then again, the court may be very interested in how consistent his story had been from the beginning. But he couldn't risk Kitty's reputation or her life. He would risk his, but not hers.

Kitty had been furious. How could he prevent her from doing this? Wasn't it her decision whether she wanted to put herself through the process? She was a big girl, she could handle it. But as the argument dragged on she could see the toll it was taking on him, and she knew she had to let it go. She wasn't going to add to his already considerable burden by doing something that caused him this much anxiety. So the subject was dropped, and in true Matt Dillon fashion had barely been mentioned since.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The Night Before

**Tuesday, July 29**

Kitty sat on her bed, staring at the suitcase on the floor and starting to feel guilty. She was actually happy to be going to Wichita even though circumstances should dictate otherwise. This trip was the result of one man's death and another man's—_her_ man's—insistence that she could not be involved in one of the most important events of his life. It was a sad trip really, but she was grateful to have something to keep her occupied while Matt was gone and there was nothing she could do but worry.

Doc had watched Jed Connelly board a stage two weeks earlier, heading to Russell to spend time with his son before the trial. Kitty had asked Doc if he thought Jake might talk his father out of going through with this, and Doc had given the less than reassuring answer that anything was possible. But he said Jed appeared as stubborn and angry the day he left as he was the day he had made his accusation, and Kitty held out little hope that anything would change before Thursday.

In a rare conversation on the upcoming trial, Matt had told her that he would have no choice but to resign if found guilty of wrongful death. His actual innocence didn't matter, a convicted liar would have no credibility, no authority to enforce the law. His job was his livelihood, and it would be gone along with his reputation if this did not go his way. Surely that wasn't going to happen, she told herself. But what if it did?

A knock on the door jolted Kitty out of her thoughts. It was an expected knock, one her heart had been longing to hear. "Come in," she called, standing up. Matt entered her room with a weak smile, hoping to disguise the level of stress and fatigue that was plaguing him.

"Hello, Handsome," she said affectionately as she walked over and put her arms around his waist. He returned her embrace, closing his eyes and holding onto the one person who could make his problems temporarily disappear. She pulled away just enough to give him a brief, tender kiss.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, not fooled by his casual demeanor.

"Fine," he lied. The truth was, he couldn't remember the last time he had been this nervous. For a man who made his living bringing dangerous criminals to justice, that was saying a lot.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, squeezing his hand. "I'm a good listener."

He knew that, of course. He had known it for fifteen years, since the first time he had introduced himself to the gorgeous redhead who had just moved to town and taken a job at The Long Branch. Their instant rapport was a rare experience for the private, introverted Marshal, and his ability to confide in her had grown with the intimacy of their relationship.

"Not tonight," he answered, aware that she was worried about him and seeking to reassure her. "I'm really fine Kitty, I'm just tired. And I have to get up early in the morning." Wilkes had not only successfully had the trial moved to Hays, he had secured a new judge who had never met Matt. He had researched Judge Brooker's history and argued that he could not be objective considering his cozy relationship with the Marshal. Wilkes might be a snake, but he certainly seemed to know what he was doing. It was not a comforting thought.

Kitty knew her man better than anyone, and he had to handle this his way. Just being there for him was the best she could do, and pressing the issue would only make him more anxious.

"Okay," she said softly. "I'm tired too. Why don't we just turn in."

They changed into their night clothes and crawled into bed, spooning together under a lightweight sheet. Matt put a long arm over her side and clasped her petite hand in his. "Kitty, promise me you will be careful in Wichita" he pleaded. "Wire me the minute you get to the hotel."

"I will," she promised.

"Goodnight," he said, kissing the back of her neck before they drifted off to sleep.

**GSGSGSGSGSGSGSGSG**

Matt rarely slept past dawn, and this morning was no exception. His night had been interrupted by strange dreams and frequent awakenings, but nerves got him going when it was time to get up.

He quietly dressed and looked at his partner in bed, still sleeping like an angel. Her train wasn't until early afternoon and he didn't want to wake her so early. But he couldn't leave on this most important of journeys without saying goodbye, even if she didn't hear it. He placed a soft kiss on her lips. "I love you," he whispered.

She stirred slightly but her eyes didn't open. He slipped out the door and headed off to grab his luggage before catching the stage.

Doc was already there when he arrived, handing his bag to the driver. He looked about as happy to be there as Matt did.

"Good morning," he nodded to Matt, trying to sound as though this were a typical Wednesday morning.

"Doc," he returned uncomfortably. If there was anything Matt hated, it was inconveniencing a friend. Though to Doc, any inconvenience was negligible compared to the responsibility that lay ahead of him.

The three passengers found their seats in the stage as the driver announced it was time to leave. Doc and Matt were joined by Esther Holloway, a middle-aged rancher's wife whose daughter in Hays had recently given birth to her first grandchild. She immediately pulled out the baby afghan she had been working on and prepared to happily knit the next few hours away.

Matt looked at the slightly overweight Mrs. Holloway, with her hair pulled back neatly in a bun and not a hint of makeup, and he couldn't help but think of Mavis Connelly. She had been older, but there was a resemblance.

Esther looked up from her knitting and smiled at her two fellow travelers. "What sends you to Hays?" she asked, making polite conversation.

"Just some business," Doc answered vaguely. "Is that a baby blanket you're working on?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Yes, it's for my new grandson," she said proudly. "I'm on my way to visit him for the first time."

"Congratulations," Doc said sincerely. Matt smiled.

"Thank you," she returned as the stage began moving down Front Street. "It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day to travel," she remarked as the sun rose slightly higher in the sky and a slight breeze blew through the stage window.

"I suppose so," Matt nodded, looking up at Kitty's bedroom window as they passed the saloon. It was going to be a long couple of days.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Two Journeys

**Wednesday, July 30**

The Wichita train station dwarfed the one in Dodge, but with a little help Kitty managed to make her way through the building and out to Main Street fairly quickly.

Her hotel was only a couple of blocks away so she decided to walk, thankful that she had brought just the small bag. The Empire House was a two story frame building that stood on the corner of Third and Lane Streets and reminded her of a slightly fancier Dodge House. She checked in and a porter carried her bag up to the second floor room. She sat on the bed and lightly bounced up and down a couple of times, checking to see how well she was going to sleep that night. Kitty liked a firm mattress and frequently found hotel beds to be too soft, but this one felt pretty good. She would need to get up early to be at Charles Metheny's house by 9am, and she hoped to be well-rested for the occasion.

She wondered if Metheny had gotten her letter. She had written to let him know she was coming as soon as Matt had received the information from Joe Murphy, but she doubted he'd had time to receive it. Either way, she supposed she would be meeting him in the morning.

Kitty tried to picture Silas Gardner walking the bustling streets of Wichita. He was such a quiet man and seemed so overwhelmed by life when she had known him. What had changed for him when he left Dodge? Even more than the contents of the will, she was interested in learning the answer to that question.

It was now late afternoon, and she had a whole evening to kill in the big city. She pulled back the drapes and looked out the window. In the small part of Third Street visible from her room, she could see a department store and a restaurant. That would keep her busy for at least a couple of hours, she figured. Then she would come back and read until she got sleepy.

She freshened up a bit before heading out, stopping at the front desk first to ask directions to two places—the nearest livery where she could rent a horse and buggy in the morning, and the telegraph office. She had promised Matt she would wire him as soon as she made it to Wichita, and she always kept her promises.

**GSGSGSGSGSGSGSGSGS**

Matt had stayed at the Brunswick Hotel in Hays more times than he could count. The only hotel in town had served as his home away from home during every trial, hearing, appeal, and prisoner delivery his job had required during his years as a U.S. Marshal. The same desk clerk had worked there since his first trip, and he always greeted Matt like an old friend coming to visit.

The 100-mile trip had taken eight hours including stage stops, and Matt and Doc were exhausted. They checked into their single rooms and promptly fell asleep, making up for some of the previous night's tossing and turning. Matt looked at the clock when he awoke and decided to walk over to the telegraph office. Kitty should be in Wichita by now, and he would feel better once he had heard from her.

He laughed as he read the short wire that was waiting for him.

_In Wichita. Going shopping._

It was typical, practical Kitty, paying for only four words yet saying so much. They never divulged personal information or used terms of endearment in their messages, at Matt's request. If something fell into the wrong hands it could put her in danger. But that didn't keep her from finding clever ways of making references to their private lives.

They had planned a vacation to Wichita years ago, and Kitty had been excited about shopping at the big new department store she had heard about. The trip had been canceled at the last minute when Matt was called to Hays to testify at an appeal. He had promised they would reschedule, but it had never happened. She was letting him know that she was finally getting her city shopping trip, at least as a side benefit of this trip. Matt didn't particularly enjoy shopping but he did enjoy seeing Kitty have fun, and he felt a sense of loss at not being there for something they should be doing together.

Despite his initial reservations, Matt was glad that this trip to Wichita had worked out for her. He still felt guilty about not letting her come with him, even though he was confident it was the right decision. He couldn't help but think about how he would feel if the situation were reversed—how would he take it if she had refused his help and told him not to come? Not well at all, he was quite certain. He hoped the Wichita diversion would make these two days go quickly for her, and he was more than a little curious to find out what was in that will. With any luck, the trial would go well and Friday night they would be back in each other's arms, sharing the details of their two journeys and knowing that this was all behind them.

Matt thanked the telegraph clerk before heading back to the hotel to get Doc. He treated his friend to dinner at the restaurant next door, which was similar to Delmonico's except with better food and good service. Dinner conversation steered away from the reason they were there and centered mainly on Doc's impression of Hays and the wire from Kitty. They had discussed in detail Doc's medical diagnosis of Jed Connelly shortly after the trial had been scheduled, and the man of few words didn't see any point in discussing it again.

They retired to their separate rooms after dinner, deciding to spend the rest of the evening in quiet solitude to prepare for the following day. Matt actually had little to prepare, it wasn't like he needed to memorize his testimony. All he had to do was tell the truth, which would be anything but difficult to recall.

Doc, however, felt a much heavier burden. It was his responsibility to explain to the court why Jed Connelly, a respected citizen with no history of lying or causing any kind of trouble, would suddenly turn belligerent toward a friend and make up a false story against him. He prayed he was up to the task.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Head Case

Being a family doctor in a small, raucous cow town meant that Galen Adams was somewhat of a jack of all trades. He delivered babies, removed bullets, pulled infected teeth, set broken bones, cleaned cuts and other wounds, listened to personal problems, gave advice, and provided herbs and tonics for everything from insomnia and headaches to coughs and fevers. He performed some of these services for farm animals as well as humans, often getting paid in chickens and eggs if he got paid at all.

Head injuries were certainly not his area of expertise. He had treated them, of course—some accidents, but mostly men who had been beaten senseless in bar fights or unfortunate encounters with outlaws. The most he could usually do was stop the bleeding, make sure the patient got plenty of rest, and hope for the best. That had been the case with the friend against whom he was getting ready to offer his so called expert testimony.

Doc looked over the many notes he had made on the case. The Jed Connelly who awoke after two days in a coma was not the same Jed Connelly who had set out with his wife on a trip to The General Store. Not that anyone could be the same person after suffering a devastating loss in such a tragic way. But this went beyond the normal depression and despondence one expected under the circumstances. The kind, even-tempered man who had genially waited on customers for years at the town bank had become hostile, aggressive, and irrational in the weeks following the accident.

He did not have amnesia, a rare condition with which doctors were familiar though didn't fully understand, but he did experience episodes of memory loss regarding certain events and time periods. Jake had agreed to testify for Matt and could offer many examples of Jed's memory problems and bouts of irrational behavior.

If Jed consistently came across as a confused man with a faulty memory, Doc was sure that the case against Matt Dillon would never have gotten this far. But the problem was that much of the time, he still sounded like the intelligent man he was. Only those who knew him personally would notice the change in personality, and the memory lapses and delusional episodes were sporadic. So when the only other witness to the accident claimed that Marshal Dillon was the one who recklessly charged their horse and sent them heading on that fatal course, there was actually a chance that a jury of strangers who knew neither man would believe him. Especially with a slick lawyer who knew how to twist testimony and rattle a witness.

Doc changed into his night clothes and crawled into his hotel bed, pulling out the mound of literature he had brought with him. He had read it all a hundred times, but he was going to read it again. He couldn't be too prepared.

He started with the paper that had changed the way the medical community viewed brain injuries. _Recovery from the Passage of an Iron Bar Through the Head _had beenpublished by Dr. John Harlow ten years earlier in _Bulletin of the Massachusetts Medical Society_. It was an extraordinary case that most physicians were familiar with, and Doc had written to the Medical Society to request a copy after Jed's symptoms developed. The paper described the treatment of a railroad worker in Vermont named Phineas Gage who had miraculously survived an accident in which a large iron rod was being driven completely through his head, destroying much of the left frontal lobe of his brain.

Following this accident, according to Dr. Harlow, Phineas Gage underwent a drastic change in personality. The previously hardworking and pleasant man, while still physically functional except for the loss of sight in one eye, became impatient, surly, and prone to obscene rants and inappropriate social behavior. Dr. Harlow wrote that "his mind was radically changed, so decidedly that his friends and acquaintances said he was no longer Gage.'"

Though not in Dr. Harlow's paper, Doc had found other sources which indicated that Phineas Gage seemed to recover his normal personality after a few months. He had lived for 12 years after the accident, eventually dying in 1860 after a series of convulsive seizures which were almost certainly connected somehow to his injury.

It was a case that had sent shock waves through the medical community and challenged many long held views. What if the brain determined more than intelligence? Doctors now believed that the evidence was mounting— from this and more recent, less spectacular cases—that the brain not only played a major role in personality, but that different regions of the brain controlled different functions. It seemed entirely possible, even likely, that Jed Connelly's head injury had affected the part of his brain that controlled certain types of memory, rational thought, and mood, while leaving him perfectly capable of other normal functions. This being the case, he must be considered a tragic and unreliable witness.

Of course, Prescott Wilkes had found his own doctor in Hays to testify for the plaintiff. Doc didn't think the man had even met Jed, but there was no telling what this rent-a-quack might be persuaded to say for the right price. Still, Doc remained cautiously optimistic that with credible testimony from the three witnesses for the defense, the jury would find insufficient evidence of wrongdoing.

Doc shuddered at the thought of Jed finding out that his son was testifying against him. It was going to be ugly, he feared. Jed had seemed especially agitated and nervous when he left for Russell, and Doc did not envy that family. It wasn't Jed's fault, of course, but that was probably little comfort to the other Connellys. Doc hadn't seen them at the hotel, so he figured they must have decided to make the 30-mile trip into Hays early in the morning.

He finished Dr. Harlow's paper and shook his head. No matter how many times he read it, he was still amazed at the story of Phineas Gage. He wondered if Jed might also recover his true identity someday—if the brain could repair itself after having an iron rod driven through it, surely it could do the same after an accident like Jed's. He hoped so, though he sure wished it could have happened before now.

Doc took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He was getting tired but decided to take one more look at the chapter on the brain in his well-worn second edition of _Gray's Anatomy._

He glanced at the clock and wondered how Kitty was doing in Wichita. He hated the idea that she and Matt were experiencing these important events without each other. Sometimes it seemed like life was just looking for ways to keep apart these two people who belonged together more than any couple he knew. In a fairer world, Matt would have been able to accompany Kitty on her trip, and Kitty would have been able to testify for Matt without fear. Though in a completely fair world, he supposed, Silas Gardner wouldn't have died without loved ones and the old Jed Connelly would be home right now with his wife.

Doc opened his book and prepared to take one last look at the brain.

TBC

**Author's Note:** Phineas Gage was an actual person, and the story about his injury and the aftermath are completely accurate from the research I did on this. The injury happened in 1848, but Dr. Harlow did not publish his comprehensive paper _Recovery from the Passage of an Iron Bar Through the Head _until 1868.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Trial By Fire

Thursday, July 31, began like any other summer morning in Kansas. The sun rose at 6:31am, as did Matt Dillon. After shaving and dressing, he stopped by Doc's room and the two headed to breakfast.

It was a day that had been playing out in Matt's head for weeks. He could almost see the faces of the jury, hear the testimony, feel the tension in the courtroom. Yet as 9am approached, he was thinking little about the event that had been foremost in his mind. His thoughts were instead of his lover in Wichita, who should now be on her way to meet the stranger from the letter.

He'd had an upsetting dream about her the previous night and couldn't shake the apprehensive feeling that had followed him ever since. He didn't remember much about it except that Kitty had been upset with him and said this was all his fault for not letting her come to Hays. What was his fault? Nothing, he told himself, because it wasn't real. But it still bothered him.

Matt didn't mention his disquieting dream to Doc. They were both men ruled by facts and reason, and he would feel silly bringing it up. He figured Doc had enough to worry about right now anyway, so they talked about nothing in particular over eggs and toast before heading to the courthouse.

The main courtroom was reserved for criminal trials, and they were directed to a smaller room in the back for civil matters. There were no rows of seats for spectators in this room, only tables and chairs for the major players. Matt looked at the witness box and thought about how many times he had raised his right hand and sworn to tell the truth during his years as a U.S. Marshal. His testimony was often the difference between life and death for the person on trial. While it was not literally that today, it might as well have been in his mind considering what was at stake.

He took his seat at the defendant's table, with Doc taking the seat next to him for the time being. It was a seat reserved for his lawyer, but he didn't have one. Matt loved the law but had found over the years that he generally didn't care for those who practiced it. He couldn't imagine that a lawyer would know any more about this case than he or Doc, and he decided to take his chances and defend himself.

They were the first ones to arrive and sat quietly as they waited for everyone else, dreading the sight of Jed Connelly walking through that door. There might be a more awkward situation than this, but they didn't know what it would be.

Matt sat up straight as Jake Connelly entered the room alone.

"Good morning," Jake said softly. It was anything but a good morning for anyone involved with this case, but he didn't know what else to say.

"Hello, Jake," Matt replied, standing up and offering a firm handshake. He looked around expecting to see Jed, but no one else walked in. Doc stood up and also glanced expectantly toward the door.

"I didn't see any reason for Mary and kids to be here," Jake explained, noticing their curiosity. "It's just me."

"What about your father?" Doc asked.

"Is he not here yet?" Jake asked, surprised.

"Isn't he with you?" Matt wondered.

"Oh, I expect he's not speaking to me right now," Jake surmised. "I wrote and told him I would be testifying for the defense at this trial. I begged him to come to Russell because he is obviously not well and needs to be closer to Mary and me. I never heard back from him."

"But he left Dodge over two weeks ago and said he was staying with you until the trial," Doc said, confused.

"With me?" Jake gasped. "Are you sure that's what he said? Dr. Adams, I haven't seen him since I left Dodge last month." Jake's mind suddenly began to race. Did his father take the wrong stage? Did he get lost? What had happened to him?

"That's what he said," Doc insisted. "I remember thinking that maybe you could talk him out of this nonsense while he was there. But he was in such an awful tizzy when he left, I knew that probably wasn't going to happen."

Matt looked quizzically at Doc. What did this mean? Was Jed missing? Did they need to go out looking for him?

Prescott Wilkes and Judge Henry Chamberlain walked into the courtroom, talking quietly among themselves as the other three men tried to process the surprising information they had just learned. Doc and Matt let out simultaneous groans when they saw the odious lawyer enter. Mr. Wilkes approached Matt and held out a piece of paper.

"Marshal, I don't know what this means, but I was just handed a message from Jed Connelly. I think you need to read it."

Matt grabbed the paper from the irritated man, who seemed less concerned with its contents than with the likelihood that his moment in the sun had turned cloudy. Matt furrowed his brow at the words as he read:

_Apologies to the court. Must take care of important business in Wichita. Tell Marshal Dillon. He will understand what it is about._

Matt swallowed hard, staring bewilderedly at the single word that jumped off the page at him: Wichita. His heart began to beat faster as a rush of adrenaline pulsed through his body.

"What does it say?" Jake prodded.

Matt looked at Jake with an almost panicked expression. "Jake, does your father know anyone in Wichita?"

"I have an uncle there," he offered. "At least I think I still do. He's pretty old, and last I heard he was not in good health."

"What is his name?" Matt asked, trying to brace himself for the answer.

"Charles Metheny," he replied. "Why?"

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Self-Preservation

**11am**

Kitty sat still in the hard wooden chair, moving only to shift from an uncomfortable position or look down the barrel of the gun aimed at her chest. She had arrived at 950 Johnson Fork Road right on time, her rented horse and buggy parked outside with her handwritten directions to the place lying in the seat.

During the brief periods of silence, she had been cursing herself for the past two hours. Kitty had a keen intuition and seldom ignored it. Now she was reminded why.

Something hadn't felt right at the livery. She had asked the owner if he knew Charles Metheny, and he did. He was happy to give her directions to Johnson Fork Road and asked if she was another relative coming to help. His brother-in-law had rented a horse from him a couple of weeks ago, telling him that Charles was not well and needed care. When she had explained the reason for her trip, he seemed surprised. He had never heard of Silas Gardner and wondered how Charles would even be capable of handling an estate in his condition.

Kitty found his comments disconcerting but decided to chalk it up to the big city. This wasn't Dodge where everyone knew everyone else's business. Surely he didn't know every man in Wichita, so not knowing Silas was perfectly plausible. And Charles was old, he was allowed to have a relative come and stay with him. It didn't mean he was unable to write down a last will and testament. He had written that letter to her, after all. She hadn't come all this way to let a little uncertainty send her running back home like a frightened woman who couldn't take care of herself.

She was too stunned to process the situation when the man who opened the door was not the frail stranger she had pictured, but was instead Jed Connelly. The Jed Connelly she had known and liked for years, now a person she didn't recognize. The Jed Connelly who was supposed to be in Hays at this very moment, relaying his delusional version of events to a jury she had been praying would understand the nature of his injury.

Her immediate thoughts had been of Matt, as they were when she awakened that morning. Somehow the only witness against him in this farce of a lawsuit was standing in front of her in Wichita, and surely that meant the trial was off. She hadn't even considered that she was in danger until he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the house, slamming the door and sticking a gun in her side.

He ordered her to the chair, taking a seat on the couch directly across from her. She searched his face for clues to his state of mind. Was he more angry or depressed? Confused or lucid? She desperately tried to remember everything Doc had told her about dealing with the man who was now her captor.

"I'm sorry to have to do this," he said sadly, almost apologetically. "But there was no other way."

He didn't sound angry, he sounded more depressed. This is good, she thought to herself. Those seemed to be his two main emotions these days and he could change from one to another without warning. Depressed seemed better than angry, at least in this situation. If she could keep him that way she might get out of this. She closed her eyes and listened to Doc.

_Don't get mad at him, it will only make things worse. _

"No other way to do what?" she asked sweetly, showing no sign of distress or dismay.

"No other way to make him realize what he did to me. No other way to make him feel it," Jed explained.

Kitty took a minute to digest his answer. He blamed Matt for Mavis' death, and he wanted Matt to feel his loss. Was he planning to kill her to prove his point? Help me keep him calm, Doc.

_Losing his wife has been devastating to him. Don't be afraid to acknowledge that. You won't be bringing up something he doesn't already think about every day._

"Mavis was a wonderful woman," she said sincerely. "You were married a long time. You must miss her terribly."

Jed looked up at her and his eyes filled with tears. "She was my whole life, Miss Kitty. He took her away, and he doesn't even care."

She bristled at the comment, forcing herself not to shout her reply. No one cared more about what had happened than Matt. She had been beside him during those dreams, comforting him in middle of the night. She had seen the rare display of emotion after Mavis' funeral, as Matt had agonized over what it would be like for Jed once he knew what had happened. But that was the problem—she had seen those things, not Jed. Not anyone else.

She wanted to tell him how wrong he was, about both Matt's feelings and the accident. It wasn't Matt's fault. Whatever Jed thought had happened, he was mistaken. How could she convince him of that? Tread lightly, she warned herself. You know what Doc said.

_He believes these things. They may be delusions to everyone else, but to him they are real. Don't tell him he's wrong, it will frustrate and agitate him._

"The accident was a horrible tragedy, Jed," she began carefully. "I don't suppose any of us truly understands what it's been like for you."

"You don't," he agreed, a sudden edge to his voice. "But Matt will. I imagine he already does."

"How so?" she gently prodded.

"I sent a wire to my lawyer, and he probably showed it to him a couple of hours ago," he figured. "When my head began to clear after the accident, I kept asking where Mavis was. And nobody would tell me. I was frantic with worry, and they kept telling me to calm down. Well, you don't calm down when someone you love is in danger. I expect Matt Dillon is on a train right now, frantic with worry over you. Not knowing if you are dead or alive, having no choice but to wait until he gets here to find out."

She had no doubt that Matt was on his way. Which scenario would he find out? There were two ways this could end, and she had to use the only weapon she currently possessed to ensure her safety and Matt's. She had to use her wits.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Follow Me, And Try To Keep Up

**8:54am**

Matt thrust the paper toward Judge Chamberlain, more forcefully than he intended. "I have to get to Wichita," he said with urgency. "I believe a friend of mine is in danger."

"What's going on, Marshal?" Jake demanded.

"Kitty Russell got a letter from a man claiming to be Charles Metheny, saying she had inherited part of an estate in Wichita and needed to come to his house for the reading of the will. She's there right now. I believe your father tricked her into coming there, Jake. He is trying to get back at me for what he thinks I've done."

Jake's face went pale. "I don't know what to say. I knew my father wasn't himself, but I never imagined anything like this. He's not a killer, Marshal. I know he couldn't hurt Miss Kitty."

Matt turned to Doc, hoping for a confirmation of Jake's assessment. "Doc, what do you think?"

Doc nervously rubbed his moustache. "Well, I just don't know," he said honestly. "Of course the Jed we all know is as gentle as a lamb. But it's hard to say what he might do in his current state. He may not even know what he's doing if the delusion is strong enough." Doc wished he could offer Matt, and himself, more reassurance. But he had to give his candid opinion. Kitty's life may depend on it.

"I'm catching the next train to Wichita," Matt announced.

"I'll take you to the station," Judge Chamberlain offered. "I certainly hope your friend is OK."

"Thank you, Judge," Matt replied gratefully, heading toward the door.

"Let me get my bag. I'll just be a minute," Doc promised, right on his heels.

Matt stopped and turned around, almost causing a collision between the two. "Doc, I appreciate the offer," he said seriously. "But I need to do this alone. I can't let you put yourself in a situation like this, it's too dangerous. Besides, I need to get there as quickly as possible, and you…" Matt hesitated to go on, not wanting to offend his dear friend.

"Are you saying I'm old and I'll slow you down?" Doc fumed. "Let me tell you something, Son," he started, and Matt knew from both Doc's tone and choice of words that he was about to be told what for. "I may have a few years on you, but that woman is like a daughter to me and nothing on earth is going to stop me from getting to her as quickly as possible. It could just be that the safest person to diffuse the situation is the doctor who understands Jed's condition, and not the big man with a gun. Did you ever think of that? So if you really want to help Kitty, I suggest you follow me and try to keep up."

Matt made a face and sighed. "I'll meet you out front," he conceded.

**GSGSGSGSGSGSGSGSGS**

**11:30am**

Kitty struggled to keep her mind working as quickly as her mouth, a dilemma that was not entirely new to her. She needed to keep Jed distracted until Matt got there, but saying the wrong thing could be deadly.

"So who is Charles Metheny?" she asked him casually.

"He's my brother-in-law, Mavis' oldest brother."

"Is this his house?" she wondered.

"Yes. He's upstairs asleep."

A chill went through Kitty's body. It hadn't occurred to her that there might be someone else in the house with them. Did asleep really mean sleeping? She didn't know what was real in Jed's mind.

"Does he know about this?" she asked.

"No," Jed replied. "He's old, and he's not well. I gave him a lot of sleeping powders this morning."

Kitty nodded her head slowly. "The way you got me here was very clever," she complimented. "Impressive, really. No one should question the way you think, Jed. You outwitted us all."

Jed let a small smile escape his lips for the first time since she had been there. It had been so frustrating for him all these months. Nobody believed him, everyone thought he was crazy. He figured Matt would check up on Charles Metheny, and he would find a harmless old man who was exactly who he said he was. It had gone unbelievably well. Who's crazy now?

"And that story about Silas Gardner," she continued. "That was very convincing, Jed. Did you know him?" The whole reason for her trip had fled her mind the second that gun was shoved in her side and she went into survival mode. It was suddenly occurring to her that Silas Gardner had likely never moved to Wichita, didn't have a change of luck, and may even still be alive.

"I remember him from years ago in Dodge," Jed told her. "I used to try and help him too, you know. He tried to get a loan a couple of times, and of course I couldn't give him one. But I felt sorry for him, so sometimes I would give him a few dollars of my own and tell him to consider it a personal loan. I knew he couldn't pay me back, but I didn't care."

"That was awfully nice of you," Kitty said, sadly reminded of the kind banker she liked so much.

"I saw you taking food to him at the stable sometimes," Jed remarked. "I thought a long time to come up with something that you might believe. It still seemed like a long shot that you would come, though. Frankly, I thought you would choose to go to Hays with him instead."

Kitty bit her lip and almost laughed. The irony of this situation would be funny if it weren't so frightening.

"Do you know whatever happened to Silas?" she asked, regaining her composure.

"I have no idea. I haven't heard his name in years. I don't even know where he went once he left Dodge." Kitty suspected as much under the circumstances.

"So I guess you made up Mrs. Frederickson too?" she surmised.

"She's really a housekeeper, but for Charles," he responded. "I just made up who she works for."

An awkward silence followed. What now?

"I wonder what time it is?" she blurted out nervously.

Jed took out his pocket watch with one hand, the other firmly gripping the gun. "About a quarter to noon," he replied. "If he made the 9:30 train like I expect he did, the Marshal will be here soon."

Kitty worked up the courage to ask the only question that really mattered. "What happens when he gets here, Jed?"

"I guess he's going to find out what it's like to be me," Jed said tersely, his tone suddenly changing and his finger tapping the trigger of the gun.

He sounded angry now. Kitty closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She prayed she didn't run out of ideas before she ran out of time.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Wichita

The train was still slowly moving inside the Wichita rail station when Matt and Doc jumped out of their seats and stood by the exit. The two and a half hour trip had seemed more like two and a half days. Matt had watched the Kansas plains roll by through the window as he silently berated himself for his carelessness.

Why didn't he think to ask Joe to look up Silas Gardner as well as Charles Metheny? That story about the will was surely pure fantasy, and had he checked it out more thoroughly he would have stopped her from going to Wichita. He had been so preoccupied lately, but that was no excuse.

His strange dream made eerie sense now. Had he let her come to Hays as she wanted, they would have sat in the courtroom and read that wire together, and Jed's no-show would have made his anxiety over her presence unfounded. There would have been no trial. _Stupid._

The train came to a complete stop, and the two men jumped onto the platform the second the doors opened. They zigzagged through the crowd together, following the signs to Main Street as quickly as they could. Doc took double strides, determined to keep up with Matt's long legs. Finding the exit, they ran outside and grabbed the first person they saw.

"Can you tell me where the nearest livery is?" Matt asked, clearly anxious for the information.

"Sure," the man replied, a little intimidated by his size and his demeanor. "Go down about two blocks and you'll see the post office on the corner. Turn right there and Mr. Furman's Livery is down on the left."

"Thanks," Matt said as he and Doc took off running.

They easily found the livery, and Mr. Furman was inside. Matt suddenly realized that he didn't remember the address he needed. He would know it if he heard it, but all he could picture on that letter was the name Charles Metheny.

"Doc, do you remember where he lived?" Matt asked.

"I'm afraid I don't," Doc replied. He hadn't even seen the letter.

"Perhaps I can help you gentleman," Mr. Furman offered politely, overhearing their conversation and picking up on its urgency.

"Do you know a Charles Metheny?" Matt questioned.

"Well, he's quite the popular fellow," Mr. Furman laughed. "You are the third person to ask about him lately."

Matt and Doc exchanged fearful looks. "Was one of them a lady?"

"Why yes, just yesterday. A lovely redheaded woman rented a buggy and asked for directions to his place. I thought she was a relative coming to visit, like his brother-in-law a couple of weeks ago. But she said she just had some business with him."

"I need a horse and buggy and directions to his house, as quickly as possible," Matt pressed.

"Oh dear, I hope nothing is wrong," Mr. Furman said with concern.

"I hope so too," Matt whispered, almost like a prayer.

**GSGSGSGSGSGSGSGS**

Kitty reached into her memory and relived their earlier conversation. What was Jed most comfortable talking about? She needed to get him back to a happy place.

He seemed to like it when she complimented his plan—its complexity, its plausibility, his flawless execution. It made him feel smart and useful, something he had not felt since the accident. What else could she say about that?

"I bet your lawyer didn't have anything to do with this, did he? He probably couldn't have planned it this well," she said with a steady voice that surprised her.

"Prescott Wilkes is a heartless weasel," he said disgustedly.

She couldn't argue with that. Perhaps they could bond over their common enemy.

"I think so too," she agreed. "He doesn't care about people or the law, he only cares about money."

Kitty could tell she hit a nerve. _Dammit_, she chided herself. _He looks mad again._

"He told me he wanted to get justice for Mavis," Jed started, his voice shaking. "He took my money, and then he didn't want to hear any more about her. He said let him handle it, he had my story and knew what to do. "

"That must have been very hurtful," Kitty sympathized. "I know you were only doing this for Mavis."

"Then I found out that if I won, all I got was money. He didn't tell me that when I agreed to file the lawsuit. That's when I decided not to go through with it. I don't want Matt's money. I have money, I don't need his. That won't bring Mavis back." He looked as if he might cry.

"No, it won't Jed," Kitty said softly. "But nothing else will bring her back either. What _were_ you hoping to gain by suing Matt?" She regretted the question as soon as it left her lips, certain that it was going to trigger an angry outburst.

But it didn't. Jed looked down and blinked, a tear falling down each cheek. "An acknowledgment of what he did. An apology. Something. I don't know anymore."

Kitty kept a watchful eye on his right hand as the barrel of the gun lowered, now aimed more toward the floor than her chest. Her instinct told her keep talking about the woman he loved, a subject that humanized his hostage and made his insides melt. He didn't really want to hurt her, she was sure of it. He hadn't lost that much of himself.

"Do you know what my favorite memory is of Mavis?" she asked.

She could tell he was intrigued by the question. He looked at her expectantly and shook his head. He wanted to know.

"The Ford County Sociable, about five years ago. She had on that lovely blue dress that she'd had made for the occasion. Except it was a little long, and on the first dance you stepped on it and ripped a big hole in the side. You could see right through to her petticoat. Anybody else would have left out of embarrassment, but not Mavis. She didn't want you to feel bad, so she grabbed a couple of napkins and asked me to pin them over the hole. And she was ready to go by the next dance. Do you remember that, Jed?"

He chuckled ever so slightly. "I do," he said, nodding his head.

"On the way home, Matt asked me if I would have done that for him. He thought that was about the sweetest thing he had ever seen. He was very fond of Mavis, Jed. You know he was."

She had been trying to find a way to subtly plant that seed without making him angry. Kitty searched Jed's face for a reaction. _I hope I didn't blow it by mentioning Matt._

Jed rubbed his forehead with his free hand, looking as though he might be trying to physically wipe away the confusion. Kitty didn't want to be too optimistic, but he seemed to be carefully considering her words. She felt they were on the cusp of a breakthrough.

The clip-clop of hooves sounded just outside the window and they gave each other a knowing look. It had to be Matt, and Jed suddenly looked panicked. He couldn't hurt Kitty, it would be like a sin against Mavis. What was he going to do now? He may be confused about a lot of things, but this he knew for sure—there was nothing he felt for Mavis that Matt Dillon did not feel for Kitty Russell. He had known it for 15 years, quietly, along with everyone else who knew them well but respected their privacy. And there was nothing the Marshal wouldn't do to protect her. Jed felt like a caged animal, in danger with nowhere to hide. He lifted the gun again, unsure where to aim it. The door? Himself?

Kitty could see the wheels turning in his head. She took a deep breath and willed Matt to hear her thoughts. _Please don't bust in here pointing a gun at him. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. Give him a way out._

She cringed as she heard footsteps on the porch and Jed raised the gun with a shaky hand. Her heart beat faster as she eyed the door. Should she yell something to Matt or would that startle Jed and cause a dangerous reaction?

It was a split second decision that she was preparing to make when something unexpected happened. She heard a soft knock on the door.

"Hello?" came the familiar, calm voice of Doc Adams. "Kitty? Jed? Are you in there?"

Kitty gave Jed a smile and almost started crying from relief. "It's OK, Jed," she assured him. "Nobody's going to hurt you. Doc is here to help."

Jed slowly put the gun down as another knock came, this time a little louder. "Can I answer him?" Kitty asked cautiously. Jed nodded.

"We're fine, Doc," she said loud enough for him to hear. "Jed and I are just fine."

The doorknob turned and the door cracked open. Kitty stood up for the first time in three hours, her legs feeling like jelly before she steadied herself. Doc could see Jed through the crack, standing harmlessly without a weapon and looking down at the floor. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and quickly found Kitty. She wanted to run up and hug him but was still wary of making any sudden movements. She nodded and smiled to let Doc know she was OK.

With the door wide open, she could see an extremely anxious lawman standing on the porch, hand still on the gun in his holster. Doc walked over and put his arm around Jed, leading him out of the house and talking to him gently. Jed stopped awkwardly when he saw Matt. "I'm sorry," he said with a pained expression, struggling for the right words. "This was wrong. I shouldn't…I didn't…I'm just sorry."

Matt nodded. "It's OK, Jed." He couldn't think of anything else to say.

As Jed walked to the buggy with Doc, Matt ran inside the house and pulled Kitty into a bear hug. "Oh thank God. Honey, are you OK?" He briefly pulled away to look at her, scanning her body to check for himself.

"I am now," she said, resting her head on his chest as he drew her to him once more.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Whatever Happened to Silas Gardner?

A crisp autumn wind was blowing through the streets of Dodge when Doc entered The Long Branch and joined his friends for a beer. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Matt.

"I got this today," he reported. "It's from Jake Connelly." Doc looked rather pleased, so Matt was fairly sure it wasn't bad news.

Jed had agreed to move to Russell after the frightening episode three months earlier. Kitty had refused to press charges, and under the circumstances Matt convinced the judge to release him into Jake's custody as long as he sought medical treatment. Charles Metheny, the man who had slept through the ordeal taking place in his house, died a short time later in the care of his daughter.

Matt opened the letter and read quietly to himself, his smile getting bigger as he made his way down the page.

"What does it say?" Kitty asked.

"Yeah Matthew, tell us what it says," Festus echoed.

"Well for starters, Jed is doing well," Matt replied. "He's thinking more clearly, his memory is better, and he's acting more like himself. He's not a hundred percent, but it's encouraging."

"Oh, that is wonderful," Kitty exclaimed.

"Jake says Jed remembers more about the day of the accident too. He's been getting flashes of memories about the outlaws running up on them before Matt came along," Doc added. "I don't doubt that someday he'll be able to tell us exactly what happened."

"I hope so, Doc," Matt said. "I'd like to know, just for my own peace of mind."

"Does old Jake say anything else?" Festus wondered.

Matt smirked. "Apparently they have filed an ethics complaint against Prescott Wilkes. He will have to face the bar next month to explain why he tricked a confused old man into paying him money for a lawsuit he didn't understand. I have to admit, I'd like to be a fly on the wall at that hearing."

"It couldn't happen to a better snake," Kitty laughed, holding up her beer as everyone clinked their mugs together.

Matt pulled out his own piece of paper from his shirt pocket. "Well, as long as we're sharing information, I have something here too," he said, handing the paper to Kitty.

She held it at arm's length, not having her reading glasses handy. The letterhead was from the clerk's office in Boulder, Colorado. She read it aloud:

_Dear Mister Dillon,_

_I got your letter and have been checking around ever since. I think I might have found him. There is a Silas L. Gardner listed as part owner of a shoemaking and repair business in Denver. He's about the right age to be that fellow we knew in Dodge. I've put his address on the bottom of this letter._

_I'm always plum tickled to hear from you. Please give Miss Kitty and old Doc my best. Sure would love if you could come and visit me sometime._

_Regards,_

_Chester_

Kitty gave Matt a surprised look. "You wrote to Chester about Silas Gardner?"

"I wrote to everybody I know," he laughed. "I knew he had been on your mind lately, and I thought there was a small chance someone might know where he ended up. Turns out Chester was our man." Matt's former assistant had moved to Boulder six years ago to take a job at the courthouse, and they still kept in touch.

"I can't believe Chester actually made himself useful," quipped his former verbal sparring partner. "_Old_ Doc my foot," he added under his breath.

Kitty smiled. "Well, what do you know. It looks like Silas Gardner may have done alright by himself after all."

Matt nodded. "You know Kitty, I was thinking. We haven't taken a trip together in a while."

Kitty made a face. "You mean Wichita didn't count?"

Matt winced. It was a bad joke, but an understandable one. He had disappointed her on more trips than he cared to remember.

"I'm serious," he insisted. "What do you say we take Chester up on his offer? We might even check on Silas while we're out that way."

"I hope he's better at repairing shoes than he was buggies," Doc interjected.

"Oh you hush," Kitty ordered with mock annoyance. She raised an eyebrow at the Marshal. "Do you really think you can go?"

"I'll make it happen," he promised. "What do you say?"

"I say pack your bags, Cowboy. You're taking me to Colorado."

The End


End file.
